The Gift of Life
by Linwe Ringeril
Summary: April is a 21-year-old with a special amulet of healing. after being saved from death by Count Vladislaus Dracula, she owes him a debt.3 years later after she finds out about his destruction, she seeks him out to repay her debt.with the help of her amulet
1. April's Amulet

**Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or Dracula yadda yadda yadda…**

**The Gift of Life**

_**Transylvania 1885**_

The wind was freezing cold as the whistling wind whipped through April's hazel hair as she ran. It had blown off the hood of her cloak to bite at her frostbitten face and ears. Tears that were flowing from her green eyes almost froze, it was so cold. There was a panic-stricken look on her fair face as the road came to a dead end at a cliff. She looked down. About two hundred feet below was a river with razor sharp rocks. Her situation did not look promising.

"Kill the witch! Kill the witch!" screamed the angry villagers of Transylvania. She had gone to her cousin's house to cure her baby cousin who was sick with fever. You must know now that she was unlike any other doctor. She possessed a magical amulet that could cure all forms of sickness, the most grievous of wounds, and even death, though she had never dared to try to resurrect anyone. It had been passed down to her from her mother when she was a young girl. She didn't know exactly how her mother had come to posses it, although she came from a long line of magic-practicing gypsies. She assumed it had come from somewhere in there.

"God, help me!" she whispered as she frantically looked back at her pursuers and over the cliff. She was frozen with fear, unable to think when the people came up to her, armed with torches and pitchforks and such crude weapons of sort. A man with black hair, about twenty, but very grim and old looking, stepped forward. He seemed to be leading the riot. Another man scuttled cautiously up behind him. April recognized him to be the gravedigger who had replaced the old one after he died mysteriously one night.

"The citizens of this town hereby accuse you of witchcraft and devil worship! What do you have to say in your defense, witch?"

"I am no witch! I am a simple gypsy healer, and I have done nothing to harm anyone." She said in a shaky voice.

"You have powers that are undoubtedly the work of Satan!"

"No!" she cried desperately. "I am a healer, a doctor! As I said before, I'm a gypsy, not a witch. I am loyal to none but God!"

"Lies!" screamed the gravedigger, coming forward. "You somehow cured the baker's child of high fever instantly, and no mortal doctor can do that unless they are in league with the devil!" he looked about him, seeing approving nods from the crowd. Mob psychology was taking effect, and he could tell. He smiled wickedly, extracting a tape measure from his pocket.

"No doubt to measure my height so he can make a coffin for my corpse." She thought miserably looking around for anything that could possibly help her.

The gravedigger turned to face the crowd, egging them on and then turned to face her. "A _healer_ cannot simply see someone and they are cured not an hour later, but a _witch_ can! It is devilry! It is evil magic!"

"Did Jesus Christ not heal the sick?" she cried. "I told you, I worship only God!"

"Ha!" cried the leader. "Now you blaspheme! The witch is saying now that she is as powerful as Christ himself! She does not deserve to live! It is evil magic, as the gravedigger said! Get her! Get her!"

"No!" she screamed at the advancing villagers.

"Kill the witch! Kill the witch!" they cried.

"All this because my cousin was ill." She grumbled.

She clutched the amulet against her breast and considered showing it to them, but it was too late now. They'd probably just say Satan gave it to her anyway. Plus, her mother had told her to keep it secret and she'd promised to do just that; she couldn't break her vow. She glanced over the cliff again… it was her only way out. She gripped the amulet tighter and hoped that maybe somehow its healing properties could save her.

"God help me!" she cried once again as she closed her eyes and flung herself over the cliff.

**To be continued……………**


	2. Dracula Saves the Day!

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Van Helsing or Dracula or Transylvania (I wish), but I do own the story, and April. Live long and prosper. -Linwe  **

Count Dracula flew through the cold night air. He had just fed and was en route to his castle. His wives had gone to feed earlier in the week, so he hadn't bothered inviting them.

"Although I probably should have," he thought. "My wives are probably fighting or angry because they think I favor one over the others." He shook his bat-like head. "Women and their jealousy."

As he swooped lower, he saw an angry crowd of villagers standing on the edge of a cliff near the forest where the road ended. No one had seen him, they were too distracted by something else. He swooped even lower and changed into his human form to blend into the crowd. Still, he was not noticed. Quick as a flash, he was in front of the crowd.

"What is the meaning of this riot?" he asked the man who seemed to be leading the mob.

"The crazy witch has just jumped off the cliff!"

"Crazy witch?" asked Dracula. The man nodded. "Deliberately?" The man nodded once again. Dracula narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, she was had some satanic healing powers---" The leader looked quickly around, but Dracula had gone. "I wonder who that was?" He asked the gravedigger.

"I don't think you want to know." Said the gravedigger cryptically, putting the tapemeasure into his coat pocket.

"Excuse me?"

"Let's just say, my friend, that one of my predecessors built his coffin about 400 years ago."

"What?!" The man was utterly confused.

"Good thing he wasn't still hungry." Said the gravedigger, smirking and disappearing into the crowd.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Aprilo screamed as her voice became lost in the wind as she fell. She clutched the amulet tighter against her chest. She was about 100 feet from the deadly rocks… 75 feet… 50 feet… 25 feet. "HELPMESOMEONEANYONE!!!" she screamed. 10 feet…5 feet… 2 feet, she could smell the salty water… then she stopped. Just stopped. Her face was about six inches from a rock. She thought she was somehow flying. Then she realized she was being held by two strong, black sleeved arms. She fainted…….

**To Be Continued**


	3. April Meets Her Rescuer

**Disclaimer: I STILL do not own Dracula or Van Helsing or Transylvania, but I do own the story, and April. -Linwe**

When April awoke, she couldn't open her eyes, she felt too dizzy. The first thing she noticed was that she was lying on soft sand and could hear the crashing of waves against the shore.

"So, I'm not dead," she thought. "That's certainly good, but… what happened, who saved me?" She forced herself to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was the dazzling brightness of the stars in the cold, Romanian night sky. The clouds and mist seemed to have cleared, but it was still terribly cold and windy. Using her arms for support, she sat up and looked around. Her head pounded painfully, but she took deep breaths and forced herself to stay upright. She was on the shore of the river she almost fell into when she jumped off the cliff.

April spotted who she assumed to be her rescuer. Or, at least she desperately hoped he was her rescuer and not some angry villager who wanted her dead. He was squatting on a large rock near the water, gazing out over it. He was not facing her and from what she could tell, he had not noticed that she was awake. He had long, black hair tied into a loose ponytail, and he wore all black. His cape billowed gently in the sea breeze as he finally turned to face her.

"I see you are awake." He said in a deep voice with a more noticeable Transylvanian accent than she had ever heard. She was also greatly taken aback because he was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was rather pale, but he had pointed masculine features and broad shoulders. Even in the moonlight you could tell she was blushing furiously.

"Who… who are you, sir?" She asked. He climbed off the rock and strode over to where she was seated on the ground. He extended his hand and she took it, though he had not yet spoken, and he lifted her to her feet. She needed to lean on him for a moment or two though because she was still very shaky and disoriented.

"I," he said, still close to her and looking into her green eyes," am Count Vladislaus Dracula."

"A count!" she thought, " but why had he saved _me_?" Thought she as she stared and blinked for a moment in surprise.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked in his deep voice.

"N-no… just why on earth did _you_ save _me?_" She asked, completely confused. She knew she had heard the name Dracula somewhere… in a book, she was pretty sure. Why would this famous count bother to save her? "And why did you save me? Were you in the mob chasing me? No, I suppose you weren't, they wanted to kill me." She laughed nervously and noticed he was now behind her, but still close.

"I don't exactly know, my dear," he said almost seductively. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she felt entranced by his voice, but then she got a sudden idea.

Whirling around, she flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for saving me! I don't know how I can ever repay you." He took a step back, looking both surprised and a little disgruntled.

"There is no need." He said returning to his dignified demeanor. "I do not think there is anything you can give that I really need."

"But, my lord, such a heroic act cannot go without thanks." She insisted.

"Well, perhaps there is something…" He said facing her suddenly.

"Yes?" She asked hesitantly.

With one motion he swept her into his arms and kissed her. It lasted for several minutes and it had such a heated intensity that she had never felt before. At first she resisted his embrace, but then she gave in as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They finally had to pull back when she was gasping for breath. He then took her hand and kissed it tenderly, looking into her eyes all the while.

"I must go now." He said softly, letting go of a stunned April. To her extreme amazement he morphed into a terrifying bat-like creature. He jumped into the air and flew off, mighty bat wings flapping, into the night. Surprisingly, April hadn't moved at all during his change.

"Thank you!" she called after him. "I shall never forget you!" After many minutes, she finally came to, so to speak, and walked toward the direction of her home. "So he _was_ a vampire." She thought. April had suspected he was a vampire because no mortal man could save her from falling off a cliff in mid-air, nor would any mortal try to bite her neck which, she thought he had attempted to do right before she kissed him on the cheek. The only real reason she kissed him on the cheek was to avoid the impending bite. Why he had not simply attacked her, she did not know for certain, but she assumed he had already fed.

She'd read many books on vampires and could recognize them almost immediately, although she'd never seen one before this night. "I guess I got lucky." She thought, walking quicker, hoping the mob had dissipated for the night, thinking her dead. Although the reason he had saved her in the first place still puzzled her and she couldn't figure it out, no matter how much she thought about it. "Just shut up, and be glad you're not sleeping with the fishes tonight, April, you fool!" She said to herself as she climbed into her own bed.

**To Be Continued……..**

_To my most gracious reviewers:_

_I apologize for accidentally erasing all your previous reviews for this story, I messed something up and I had to reload the whole thing! Thanks again for reading and reviewing, I love you guys!!  _


	4. Gossip Travels Fast

**Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Dracula, even though the little voices in my head tell me I do. K bye.**

_Transylvania 1888_

April walked through the town's square, pulling her cloak around her, and trying to shield her face with her hood. It was winter in Transylvania, and the freezing wind was not merciful. She walked into the small grocery market and gratefully shut the door, glad to be away from the wind.

It had been about three years since her accident at the cliff. Ever since she had been living under the name "Prudence Leolius," because if the villagers found out who she really was, they wouldn't hesitate to kill her. She had dyed her brown hair flaming red and always wore spectacles that she didn't really need. Seldom did she go out, but when she did, she wore lots of makeup. April despised makeup, but everyone would recognize her without it.

Surprisingly, the villagers had completely believed her story about being a distant cousin of April, and moving into April's house only until she could sell it. Part of her story was true, April knew she couldn't stay in Transylvania much longer, so she was planning on leaving as soon as someone would buy her old house.

She walked slowly toward the shelves with food for sale. She was in no hurry today, and all she needed was some apples for the pie she was hoping to bake when she went home. As she walked, she heard many snatches of gossip. This was where all the bored women went to talk about each other. April of course had never taken any part in it, but as she walked by a man speaking to a woman with urgency in his voice, she heard something very interesting and stealthily listened.

"Yes, yes, gone! Dead! And for real this time!" The man exclaimed.

"You don't say!" said the woman.

"Yes, it was that Van Helsing fellow who caused quite a commotion here about a month ago when he killed one of the vampire's brides!" That was the sentence that made April whirl around, but then busy herself with checking out some produce very near to the man so she could listen. At the mention of vampires, she felt she must listen to the rest of what they had to say.

"That man killed Dracula?!" The woman exclaimed.

"Shh! Not many people know yet, so keep it quiet!" the man said.

"And how do you know?" asked the woman.

"I'm friends with the new gravedigger, and he seems to know all about those sort of uncomfortable things." Said the man, looking around suspiciously as though the gravedigger could be watching him.

"You're friends with _him_?" asked the woman. "He's a bit mad looking if you ask me, always skulking about in dark allies, or digging graves on sunny days."

"You forget that he's the one who killed that witch some years ago. They say he pushed her off a cliff when she tried to enchant him." April rolled her eyes when he said this. "He's proven his worth as a citizen, and he always has valuable information about the vampires."

"But aren't all the vampires gone now?" asked the woman.

"Only the ones created by Count Dracula," he said, and April stiffened when she heard the name. "There are still others about--"

April didn't waste anymore time. She bustled past the man and the woman, pulling on her cloak without buying her apples, and left the store.

As she walked briskly down the street, trying to digest the information she had just received, that is if it was to be believed. She felt a strange sort of loss for the Count, if he was truly dead. Something in her told her that she needed to find out the truth, no matter what. And there was only one person that she could think of that would know--the gravedigger.

She immediately changed her course toward the town's graveyard and walked quickly, heart pounding for some reason she didn't know. She needed to know the truth about Count Dracula.


	5. A Surprising Idea

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Van Helsing or Count Dracula, but I do own the story and April. Live long and prosper. -Linwe**

April turned off the paved street. She strode into the desolate Town Graveyard, feeling very uncomfortable. She warily looked around, but could see no signs of the gravedigger. Not even a shovel was lying around, which it usually was when he was taking a break. Although he was quite the gossip, or just knew too much and too many people, he hardly ever left the graveyard at all. April didn't even have a clue where he lived or if he had any family, but everyone seemed to know him. Suddenly, she heard a sound and whirled around, only to find nothing.

"Hello?" She called, looking around and walking forward. "Is someone there?" No one answered her. She continued to walk forward, looking around all the while, but still seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "I suppose he's not here," she thought to herself. All of a sudden, she felt an arm slip around her waist. She shrieked.

"Nice day, don't you think?" It was the gravedigger. She looked up at the cloudy sky and then at him, shoving him away none too gently.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, brushing her cloak off. She hated the attention this make-up was getting her. "You are the town's gravedigger, are you not?" She asked in her false, husky voice she had taken to using.

"Why yes," he said, studying her carefully. "Who wants to know?" Raising an eyebrow, he continued to analyze her quite lecherously. She rolled her eyes in disgust.

"I'm Prudence Leolius." She said, extending her hand. He reached out to kiss it, but she shook his hand forcefully, stopping him in his tracks. He looked rather hurt.

"Anthony," was all he said, not bothering to include a last name.

"So I've heard." Although she actually hadn't.

"Is there something I can do for you, Madam?" He asked. "Have you had a death in your family? Or is someone about to--" he made a cut-throat gesture with his finger across his neck. He then took out his measuring tape.

"N-no," she said, suddenly very nervous. "I have a question, that's all."

"Oh." He said, looking disappointed. "And what would that be?"

"What do you know of a Count Dracula?" She asked, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them.

"I know that he is no more, my dear. Why do you ask?"

"So he _is_ gone?" She was surprised the gossip had been true.

"I just said that."

"Do you know how it happened?" She asked.

"My sources say that it had something to do with that Mr. Van Helsing." He said with a puzzled look on his face. "Again, why do you wish to know?"

"I have my reasons." April said cryptically, looking away to the west at the sunset. At that moment, she got an idea. It was a crazy idea, and she knew it, but she didn't care. Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. "I must be going." April turned on her heel and left the puzzled man in the graveyard.

"Wait!" He called after her, so she turned, slightly annoyed. "Would you happen to be busy on Saturday night? I know of this great pub---"

"Yes! I'm busy, very busy. Goodnight!" She called quickly, and almost ran back onto the road, eager to get away from the creepy grave-digging man.

As April walked into her front door, not an hour later, she was completely consumed in her own thoughts.

All she could think about was her idea. She knew it was crazy, but she really didn't care. She knew she owed Count Dracula a debt for saving her life, and she thought that maybe this was the way to repay him. A life for a life. He saved hers, so now she had decided to give him back his. In addition to that, when he returned to life, he would no longer be a vampire, just a human. That way, he couldn't decide to suck her blood, and he wouldn't posses any of his extraordinary powers such as flight or hypnotism.

April knew she would have to use her amulet because she neither knew, nor possessed any other gypsy magic, though gypsy she was. Although, now that she thought about it, she had absolutely no idea where Dracula's ashes were… that could be a problem.

After cursing her own foolishness for not asking Anthony, the gravedigger, if he knew the location of Dracula's ashes, all she could do was think. She wondered if anyone was with Van Helsing when he was in Transylvania, or if they knew him personally. No. She could thing of no one except that short monk who had been following him. Trying to find Van Helsing was like trying to find your lucky sewing pin in a pile of many other lucky sewing pins. It was nearly impossible (unless they are colour-coded), and probably quite dangerous and painful. He _was_ the most-wanted man in all of Europe, after all. She'd have to find that monk somehow, but how could she if she didn't even know his name? She wondered if anyone might know him, and then it hit her. Beatrice!

Beatrice was the lucky woman who had been saved by the young monk about a month before. April had been out of town when it happened, but everyone said they were attacked by thousands of baby vampires. April was personally, very glad she had missed it. Beatrice on the other hand, bragged that she had gotten to know the monk quite well. If that were true, she could probably tell April his name, and maybe his location, if they had stayed in touch. Beatrice was a braggart, but not a liar, maybe she could help.

As April climbed into bed, she said to herself, " resurrect a twice-dead vampire? What are you thinking, fool?" Even so, all she could think about was when he kissed her. She could still feel the security of his strong arms, his handsome face, the feel of his cold, yet searing lips upon hers. Those thoughts kept her both up all night and farther and farther from giving up.

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	6. Back to Velarious Manor

**Disclaimer: not mine, not mine, not mine, except April and the story, of course.**

April pulled on the heavy wooden door to Velarious Manor. It didn't budge. She pulled once more, in vain, and then kicked it out of frustration. She banged on it a few more times, just for good measure, and then finally gave up, sinking to the cold ground with her back to it. She had come all this way, and to be defeated by what? A door. A heavy door. How depressing.

It had been a month. A Long, hard month in which she had traveled from Romania all the way to France. She had spoken with Beatrice, and had found out that her "friend" was named Carl, and that he was not actually a monk, but a friar. So she had found out both his name, and that he was not actually a monk at all. That was unfortunately all Beatrice had known; she hadn't even a clue where he had gone. April had felt as if she had hit a dead end, so she just decided to search blindly for either Van Hesling or his friend.

April was awoken from her thoughts by a sound to her left. She looked, and saw the empty road, sloping downhill to the town. Yet she heard the noise again, and stood up, glancing all around her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and shrieking, flung around, pulling out her dagger. Much to her dismay, it was Anthony the gravedigger, with his hands up in a "I surrender," sort of way. She sighed in relief and lowered her weapon.

"What do you want? Are you stalking me?" She snapped, sheathing her dagger once more, but her heart still beating wildly. A sudden memory came into her mind.

She was briefly reminded of France. Paris, to be exact. She had been walking down a street in the moonlight, much a night like this night, trying to clear her head, plan her next move to find Van Helsing, when she was grabbed from behind. The man had never revealed his face, but she had known who he was. Van Helsing.

He had asked her why she was tracking him, and for what purpose. She had answered vaguely, and half-lying. She had told him that Dracula had killed one of her relatives, and she wanted to know if "The Great Van Hesling" had really defeated him.

He had answered "yes," and she had asked him where. He said "behind the portal in his cursed realm, the portal behind the mirror." This puzzled her greatly, so she had asked, "Mirror? What mirror?" all innocent-like. She was a devilishly good actress when the need be.

"The mirror in Velarious Manor." He had said, starting to become just a bit suspicious. "Oh yes!" she had exclaimed, pretending she had known of such a thing, though she had not. "I had heard Princess Anna speak of such a door."

She had noticed him stiffen at mention of the princess. He had asked, "You came all the way to France just to know that?"

April had answered, "Yes. You do not know what the pain is to loose a loved one. I needed to know for sure; you cannot believe Tansylvanian gossip."

He had answered, "I do know the pain. I understand." Only at that moment had she felt a twinge of guilt for her lies. Then he had gone back into the night.

"Hello? Hello?" Anthony the gravedigger was waving his hands in front of April's face.

"Stop that!" She said, shaking her head, snapping back into reality.

"You were just staring ahead, blankly, as if thinking of something. What was it?" he nosily inquired.

"Nothing, please leave me. I'm busy; I don't have time to talk now. Why did you say you were here again?"

"I followed you."

"Why?"

"I was curious as to what you were doing, walking _alone_ up to the abandoned Velarious Manor."

"That is none of your concern, sir."

"Fine." He said, starting to walk behind her. "But do you need any help with that door?" She turned, and his hand was extended with a single, very old looking, bronze key in his palm. Hesitantly, she took it; aware of his eyes on her at all times.

Without speaking, she walked back up to the door, and found the keyhole beneath the large, iron ring-handles. She inserted the large, not to mention heavy, key. It fit perfectly, so she turned it with both hands. Surprisingly, the heavy door easily swung open to reveal the main hall of the manor. She turned to face the gravedigger.

"Uh, well, thank you… Anthony."

"Your quite welcome, Madam." He said with a little bow. She nodded and turned to go inside. "Hold it right, there," he said from behind her.

"What now?" she asked.

"Aren't you going to ask how you could ever repay me?"

"No." he mocked a hurt look. She turned again.

"I do believe you owe me _something_ for providing you with the key to this manor." He said, still sounding hurt.

"What do you want?" She asked, very annoyed. She was now standing in the doorway of the manor, holding the door, about to close it.

"A kiss." He said.

"No. But thanks again!" She closed the large door as fast as she could, and locked it from the inside. "Crazed stalker." She thought, making her way to a large staircase. "I guess I'll have to go exploring for this mirror." She said to herself as she started climbing.

**To Be Continued……..**

_To my most gracious reviewers:_

_Thank you all so much for reading this story, but I'm having a rather nasty case of write's block, so if you have any suggestions, I'm all ears. (finely pointed, elven ones, at that)_

_Thanks again for reading._

_Love dearly, not queerly,_

_Linwe Ringeril_


	7. Into the Mirror

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN VAN HELSING OR THE CHARACTERS. Just the story. -Linwe**

April walked across the main hall of Velarious Manor with a lit torch in her hand. It truly amazed her how dusty a place could get even if someone had been living in it not to long ago. It was sort of unnerving, as though someone's absence could actually collect in dust form. She shook her head to stop her imagination from journeying away too far.

She made her way up a long flight of stairs and found herself in a hallway with many doors. After checking a few with no sign of any mirror-looking portal, she finally came to a very large living room study type place. She explored it thoroughly, but much to her disappointment, found no signs of any mirror that was large enough to walk through. What she did find was a very large map of Transylvania on the wall. She examined it, and much to her surprise, came upon a Latin inscription on the side of the map.

April quickly set her torch in a holder on the wall near the map, and read the inscription out loud to herself. After ten years of education, she knew Latin better than English really, and wished most people still spoke it in everyday conversation.

"In the name of God, open this door" she spoke the last line of the inscription out loud, looking at it curiously. "Door" she whispered. "Wait! Door… portal! But where's the mirror" As if the map had somehow heard her words, it changed. The map gradually melted away, starting in the center, to reveal the sleek silver surface of a mirror. "Oh my… well I suppose this is it." She said, staring at it, dumbstruck.

Then, hesitating no longer, she started to walk, hands in front of her, into the mirror, hoping that it was a portal so she wasn't walking into a mirror. It only took one step and her hands had amazingly penetrated the surface… she felt cold and quickly withdrew her hands. She looked around and grabber her torch from the wall. With one motion her swept the hood of her cloak over her head and walked forward once more into the mirror.

Three steps was all it had taken to completely walk through. April was shocked at the strong, icy wind blowing. She looked around and found herself in front of a huge, gothic castle, looking as though it was completely covered in ice. The ground was covered with snow, and even more snow continued to fall from the black sky and swirl all around her. Despite the nasty climate, she trudged on, determined to reach her goal and bring back the man who she had unfortunately fallen in love with. Even though all she knew him by was a kiss…


	8. An Icy World

**Disclaimer: I do not own Van Hesling, and I am in no way affiliated with Brahm Stoker, but I do own the story and April. -Linwe**

April tugged on the immense, frozen, metal gate that blocked her way into Castle Dracula. It just wouldn't budge. Why was she having such a problem with doors today?

She sat down at the foot of the gate, pulling her now-drenched and heavy cloak closer to herself. It blocked the still-falling snow, but the wetness didn't exactly warm her up. It just had to be the wet kind of snow, too. Everything seemed to be trying to delay her entrance, but for what reason, she knew not.

So she continued to sit and think of some solution, cursing herself for not coming prepared with some sort of supplies other than a torch. While sitting, she noticed a large, wooden beam on the ground and an idea suddenly hit her.

She picked up the beam, and was pleased at its heaviness. With it in her hands, she made her way through the snow to the gate and swung with all her might at one of the bars of the gate. It was somewhat dented, but she hadn't broken it; all she had gained was an aching arm.

"Damn it all…" she whispered under her breath. She had figured that the old, rusty, iron poles would break easily because they were frozen. Well, she wasn't about to give up just yet. Although, she thought, if it didn't work, she could always try to scale the gate-probably breaking a few bones or her spine on the way down, but she could always use her amulet… no she wasn't _that_ desperate yet. She set her jaw resolutely and picked up the wooden beam once more, despite the throbbing in her right arm. She approached the gate again, hardly able to hold the beam, but still, she continued forward.

How was she ever going to do this? April closed her eyes and remembered Dracula's kiss once again, and the strange love for him that burned within her. She swung. A shattering could be heard as the beam collided with the gate, and the frozen poles broke apart to form a gap large enough for her to craw through. She fell to the ground, cradling her throbbing worse-than-ever arm to her body. Nevertheless, even in her pain, she cried out in joy at her victory against the gate that had tried to block her way.

Sitting up, she remembered her amulet and pulled it from her blouse. For a moment she studied it- its intricate silver designs on the perimeter surrounding a blue jewel that seemed to change to a greenish colour ever so often. Remembering her pain, she pressed it to her injured arm, and concentrated. After not even a minute, she was enveloped in its warmth and all her pain vanished. She even felt a bit warmer and dryer, despite the frigid, snowy winds now whipping around her.

April then pulled herself up from the ground and walked up to the great door to Castle Dracula. With a deep, composing breath, she walked forward and pushed with all her might. The door gave way. She was in.


	9. He's Alive!

**Disclaimer: still don't own em', still don't own em'. Cept April and the weird plot twists. -Linwe**

April was freezing cold even after she had made it inside Castle Dracula. It looked exactly as it had outside- frozen, gothic, drab and downright frightening. After cautiously making her way up many staircases and hallways, she found herself in a full-blown laboratory with much eerie, dusty equipment. As the hour passed, she must have explored every part of it, fascinated by all the curious devices and machines, fiddling with them and trying to find out how they worked, but too craven to turn them on. This went on for a while until she stumbled across a large pile of ashes on the ground next to another curious machine. Her heart seemed to stop.

She knew it was the Count that she was standing above. The thought of finally seeing him after all this time made her heart beat quickly- half with anticipation and half with doubt. What if her feelings were unrequited? Nevertheless, she composed herself and ignored the thoughts. It didn't really matter if he felt the way she did, did it? The reason she was here was to repay him, that was all… wasn't it? Her heart told her it was not.

She bent low to examine the ashes, studying them carefully. Luckily, they didn't seem to be too scattered, so with only a few sweeps of her handkerchief, they were in a neat pile. For the second time that night, she pulled her amulet from her blouse. She looked at it with doubt in her eyes- she had never attempted to resurrect someone before. She knew it was possible, but what would happen to her? A resurrection probably took lots of energy, and hers seemed to have waned so much since she had stepped into Velarious Manor, 4 hours ago.

At that moment her mind filled with doubt. What if it killed her? What if it took all the life from her and gave it all to him? Her own fear and selfishness held her back, and she was staring at the ashes, thinking about how she had come all this way and now her own frailties were getting in the way of her goal.

"What a horrible person, I am" She said to herself. "I can't break my word just because of some petty selfishness. What have I to lose, anyway" Shaking her head at her own cowardice, she pulled the chain over her head and held it above the ashes, starting to concentrate. She closed her eyes and focused only on the ashes, and on a strong source of life being reborn in her amulet's light. This was the only way she knew how to use the amulet, and she willed all of her being into fulfilling her task, and bringing the Count back to her. He had saved her from death, so now she was hoping to liberate him from it and repay him for his kindness and bravery.

She felt the power start to flow from the amulet; it flowed all through her taking her strength with it, and then down to the pile of ashes. Draining… draining… she was losing all her energy as she had thought. She still held tightly onto the amulet, breaking into a cold, feverish sweat. Minutes crept by. She gasped for breath even though every intake was painful. Still she held on, still she willed the amulet to fulfill its duty, still she held it over the ashes that seemed to becoming less dead and black. Tears started to flow, her heart felt as if it was about to burst… not enough oxygen was getting to her brain… her vision blurred…

Suddenly, a great white light engulfed her and the ashes. She was blinded with the light and saw nothing, although she still held the amulet tightly between her shaking fingers. The light then faded and slowly…slowly…slowly dissipated.

She blinked and opened her eyes to see the Count lying below her on the ground where the ashes had been. She sighed in relief and happiness. His chest was rising up and down… he was alive. She had done it! She smiled and then lay down, freezing cold… but before she lay down, she looked over at Dracula and noticed for the first time that he was naked. She blushed and suddenly felt very afraid… what if he woke up? Then his eyes fluttered open. What a perfect moment, she thought to herself sarcastically.

The Count quickly sat up, with a look of puzzlement on his fair features. Realizing too, that he was naked, he looked at April and then blushed furiously, still looking around wildly, and in a very confused manner.

"Wh… where… who… what… when" He stuttered. "What happened to me? What have you done, woman" He looked at her dangerously, but then a look of realization smote itself upon his face. He blinked. "I… I _live_. I…" His hand rose to his heart. "I… am _alive._" He suddenly stood and looked down at her. "I feel! How have you done this" Her hand moved to her amulet. She found that she was unable to speak.

"What is that" He asked, but then started to shiver. "It is so cold…" She tried to find strength to stand, but was unable and just fell backward. He saw what she was trying to do, and extended his arms, lifting her by her hands into a standing position. His grip was strong, and she felt herself being reminded of when he had saved her and then lifted her to her feet on the sandy beach.

"Th-thank you." She managed to rasp. She saw that he was still shivering, so she lifted her cloak off her shoulders and handed it to him. "H-here, take this. I insist." Her eyes fluttered briefly to his waistline, and a blush came to her cheeks in the awkwardness of the situation.

"Y-yes, I thank you." He pulled the cloak around himself, blushing, as well. His hand flew to his cheeks at the warm sensation. "It has been so long since I have felt. So long…" he looked down at her face, and his expression briefly changed.

"I… remember you…" he started, lifting his hand to gently touch her cheek. A glimmer of pure elation and hope dawned in her mind when he did so. Then, like ice, he drew it coldly away and turned, as though testing her in some odd way, as though he knew her feelings were being tested when he toyed with her like this. "You were the witch who jumped off the cliff." He said turning back around, a faint glimmer in his eye. She became furious despite her exhaustion.

"I am no witch, Count." She said seriously. " But I was going to be burned anyway, so it was my only escape to use the cliff."

"Yes, yes, I do indeed remember. You were… rather difficult."

"Excuse me" she asked.

"You evaded my bite and resisted my charms… no woman had ever done that before." He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes, as though examining her as she made her retort.

"I suppose there's a first time for everything." She said, coldly, displeased that he remembered her as "difficult" but also taking pride in her accomplishment of outsmarting him.

"So, how exactly did you bring me back" She lifted her amulet up for him to see. "Does this charm posses magical properties" he said taking it from her and examining it. For some reason it didn't bother her that he had taken it, although no one but her and her mother had ever touched it.

"You could say that. But it is not evil witchcraft, by any means." She regarded it proudly. "It was handed down to me from my mother and her mother before that. We are gypsies, you know."

"Gypsies…" A strange look came upon his face, as if he was remembering something, but it disappeared as quick as it had appeared. "Well I give you my sincerest thanks… what did you say your was, my dear"

"It's April Leolius."

"So may I ask _why_ exactly you resurrected" He stopped in mid-sentence to catch April, who had suddenly fallen, looking as if she could not support her own weight anymore.

"You are weak." He said, helping her to her feet.

"That's an understatement"

"What"

"Never mind. I am just very, very tired. Resurrecting you has taken much of my energy. I would love to explain everything to you, just I feel now is not the time."

"You are correct. I am freezing cold anyway. This castle is not as comfortable as I remembered it."

"Comfortable for a vampire is probably a whole different 'comfortable' for a human, if you catch my meaning." She said.

"Indeed. Where shall we go"

"My house is in the village… unless you wish to remain here, in your castle." She said to him. He gravely shook his head.

"I feel now is the time that I must leave this place." He looked carefully around him at all the curious devices and machines and then faced her once more. "I feel a strange… sentiment toward it… it is curious."

"Well, you are alive now." She said, studying his fair face.

_Heeheeheeheeeheeeeeeeeeee_

_Well it was longer wasn't it?_

_I hope you beautiful people liked it. And thanks again for reading and reviewing! It means a lot to me-Linwe_

_To my most gracious reviewers:_

_angelofopera: Yes, Anthony is one creepy guy. But he is a gravedigger after all… how'd you think he'd turn out? Lol. Thanks for reading!_

_Countess Amulet Dracula: Here is your dearest count… and my dearest count… and I know he's also The Widowed Dracula's dearest count… well he lives! Oh how I love him._

_Maddie: Glad you're lovin it! Here's more! Yay! It has potential! I hoped it did! Lol._

_The Widow Dracula: It's fine dear, I'm always late with everything…_

_Yes, I did base Pru off April because when we started rp-ing, I was formulating this story, and she was the only character present in my mind. She's so naïve, falling for the Count because of a really steamy kiss… yes very Pru-ish. Thanks for reading! _

_Countess Vladislaus Dragu: Well here's a lengthy one. I'll probably make lobger chapters in the future, too. Glad you like it!_

_Angel-of-Darkness25: Glad you like it! Thanks for reviewing!_

_-Linwe_


	10. Dracula goes home

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Van Helsing or Dracula, but I do own April and the story. -Linwe**

April trudged forward through the snow, with the Count beside her. She noticed that he was shivering almost uncontrollably so a while back she had given him her scarf and hat. Now she was freezing cold, wearing only her long dress and leather boots. At least her feet weren't numb.

They had exited his castle and made their way through his gate and were now headed back to the portal. Weak as she was, April moved forward in a swift pace, eager to escape the icy, cursed realm. The Count followed close behind her, still shivering in the cold.

Stepping through the mirror together, they found themselves in Velarious Manor. Dracula looked around, again, as if remembering something, but he did not even look at her. Instead he spoke, half to himself.

"Ah, Velarious Manor." He said smoothly in his deep-voiced accent, looking around at almost everything. "So familiar, yet so different."

April studied him curiously, remembering the things she had read about him. He had once lived in this very house when he was alive. That is, until he was murdered and then banished by his father. She shivered, at the thought of his horrible past and horrible deeds. Had it been a mistake to bring him back?

She studied him still- no, not a mistake. She could tell he was different from the bloodthirsty vampire she had kissed on the beach. There was something he had lost when he came back to life, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Possibly his air of superiority that she had felt before, or maybe it was the hollowness of his expressions that was gone. He seemed to move now as though he had a purpose, or as though he was trying hard to grasp all the sensations he was feeling. But whatever it was that was gone from him, April could tell that he was no longer the same Count Vladislaus Dracula as she had before encountered. He was no longer the son of the devil, nor was he a bloodsucking fiend of the night. But then what was he?

"Miss, April," He prodded her arm to snap her out of her musings.

"Yes?"

"Mustn't we press on? This is not your house, is it?" He raised an impatient eyebrow.

"No, of course not," she said, embarrassed. "I live down in the village above my bakery." She started moving through the room into the hall that led to the stairs. He followed closely behind, still looking around at the old house.

As they walked she heard him speak to her. "I have a question, Ms. Leolius. Did you or did you not have that flaming colour of hair when last we met?" She smiled in spite of herself and her freezing face.

"I did not. You see, Count, ever since the incident on the cliff, I've had to live under the alias 'Prudence Leolius,' who's supposed to be my cousin. The villagers would burn the whole house down if they knew I was really April. They still seem to think I was some sort of witch." They descended the steps into the main entrance hall and walked toward the large, wooden, front door.

"I see. So if we see anyone in the village, I should address you as this 'Prudence?'"

"Yes. But my house is near the outskirts of the village, we shouldn't run into many people, especially at this hour." She glanced back at him as they walked through the front door. His strangely fiery eyes were ever on the ground and he remained silent and grim. To her, it seemed he was rather overwhelmed and didn't know how to express it. Something in his eyes told her of his discontent and maybe even panic. She thought though, that if she had been a vampire for 400 years and suddenly lived again, powerless, she would feel quite overwhelmed.

But then again, she thought, could she trust him? Had he still the malevolent heart as he had before? So far, she couldn't tell, but he hadn't seemed the least bit evil in the hour or so he had been alive. Perhaps being knocked down a few vampiric notches had made him a bit less secure, and not daring enough to be evil. After all, you needed confidence to express yourself, and perhaps he was still evil, but just waiting until some of his strength was renewed. But what did that mean? He was vulnerable now and al the strength he could gather could never compare to his super powers before!

She shook her head and tossed all the seemingly random thoughts away. She took another look at him and saw only a man wearing only a cloak, hat and scarf. There was no look of malice in his eye, or seductive charm that had lured her to him and almost got her bitten. Was she right to be suspicious? Of course, caution was her only ally at times, and she was always on the lookout for someone who suspected _her._

They walked down the steep hill from Velarious Manor that led into the village, but headed east, avoiding the town and moving toward the outskirts. Neither spoke, too haggard and consumed in their own musings. She looked ahead, but didn't really see anything. Her feet walked toward her house, but she didn't really know where she was going, her thoughts were too much in the way of everything else.

"What would I do with him?" She thought, "He can't live with me forever, and I doubt he feels the same way I do about him. Plus, it's not like he's a dog, I can't just take him home. I wonder what he wants to do? Does he have anything? Is there anything left for him in that castle? Why didn't I think this through? Did I make a mistake resurrecting him? What a fool I am!" They came, after many minutes, to her large bakery that she lived above.

He walked up the lawn and surveyed it carefully. He then turned to her.

"Well, are you going to invite me in to get warm by the fire, or just leave me out here to the wolves?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. She started, forgetting her thoughts for the moment. She walked up her walkway past him to her wooden front door. Taking out her key, she opened it and gladly stepped into her warm bakeshop. He followed.

"Well, here we are, Count." She glanced at him. All he seemed to be doing since he was brought back, was look around at everything, as if trying to absorb it somehow. "Make yourself at home." She retreated into her living room and prodded the small embers that were left of her fire, adding some wood until it was roaring with heat. Without looking, she knew the Count had entered the room. "So how do you like my house?" Again, without looking, she could tell he had a surprised look on his face because of his inability to surprise April.

"It is… intriguing, to say the least." He said fiddling with some model sailboats she had hanging on the wall. He looked over at her. "Do you think, perhaps, I could have some clothing?" He said snobbishly.

"Well, maybe, but you'll have to beg."

"Excuse me?" He asked, angrily.

"I'm only jesting, Count. Come with me." She headed toward her large wooden staircase leading up to her living area. The Count followed her, staring at the strange woman that was about to give him clothes. He still wanted to know her reason for bringing him to life. He stepped up the top step into her kitchen, intending to find out all her reasons for giving him life.

_To reviewers:_

_I know, terrible ending, but I have a huge blank in my head right now, and I'm extremely stressed! Any suggestions would be more than welcome. Thanks for reading!_

_-Linwe Ringeril_


	11. Powerful Words

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dracula or Van Helsing, just April and the story. -Linwe**

_Author's note: I'm sorry this took me so long, I was so busy, it could hardly be believed. And many many many thanks to the Unrequited Lover for her awesome suggestion!_

The Count stood, perplexed, as April pulled item after item out of her closet, looking for something he could wear. How could one person own all these clothes? He shook his head at the thought and at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I would not hurt, my dear, to somewhat cut down on your purchasing of clothes in the future, no?" He said sarcastically in his thick accent. April turned around, annoyed, because he had been badgering her like this for almost an hour.

"Look, I'm doing the best I can, here. Yes, I have lots of clothes, but I'm trying to find something you would actually wear." She cast a look at her dresses that were thrown everywhere. When she looked up, he was still staring, eyebrow raised expectantly at her like she was some servant who wasn't doing a good enough job. That was it. She'd had enough.

"What are you doing? I'm getting cold. This old house," he looked around at her old house with a supercilious look on his face, "seems to let in quite a draft."

"Why don't you, Count, find your own clothes."

"That is nonsense-" he said with a wave of his hand.

"Is it? Well, if you can't do anything for yourself, and expect _me_ to be your servant, than I suggest you leave my house." She noticed he seemed to have fully regained his superior manner and that he seemed to have completely forgotten that she was the one to whom he owed his very life!

"I think that I may do just that, Miss April!" He said with venom in his voice. He, himself couldn't exactly understand it, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with feeling, and it blinded his judgement, making him think rashly. He couldn't control it, but he knew what it was- annoyance that was turning into anger. For the first time in over 400 years he felt anger. It was intoxicating.

"Are you daft?" asked April. "You'll freeze to death." She looked out her large bedroom window and saw sparkling white flakes fall from the sky as clouds slowly glided to cover the full moon. "You, see that it's snowing, don't you? Where will you go?"

"Well, I _am_ a Count, and I am certain that my charm and charisma will not fail to-"

"Enough!" She said, feeling angry and impatient with the Count. She walked up to him and looked him in the eyes, her green ones penetrating his black ones. "Why don't you stop and think for a moment? You are nothing! You have no relatives, no brides, no powers, no castle, and no tolerance for cold…" She paused for a breath. "Have you stopped to think _at all_? You'll starve out there! You'll die! You know nothing about being human anymore! You've been dead for 400 years with all the powers that the Devil gave you at your disposal! But now you have _nothing_." He seemed to flinch. "I can tell you that charisma and charms won't get you through life for long." He stared at her, his expression having changed quite a bit from annoyed to attentive and almost frightened. She continued. "One thing _you_ have to learn, Count, is that you are not the center of the universe, and that you need to treat other people with more respect. Because like I said, now that you're truly alive, you're nothing! Nothing! So either you realize the reality of this situation and make the best of it, or you will be alone in this world!"

He hadn't moved from where he stood, but just stared at April with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes were wide and his brow was curiously furrowed as though beholding something monstrous for the first time. April couldn't help but feel a little guilty. She left the room in a hurry toward her kitchen to make some sort of supper, lost in her own thoughts. She was so lost in them that she didn't even see him cross the kitchen to the room she said he'd be sleeping in.

She couldn't even believe that she'd actually had the courage to say what she felt, to tell him the truth. But perhaps it was because she knew he had no one else to tell him. Perhaps it was because she unfortunately cared so much about him that she couldn't let him leave, because she was selfish. She started heating up a stew she had made earlier that day over the stove, not paying attention to the flame and burning her finger.

"Damn!" she said, pulling her finger away and putting cold water on it. She fumbled and dropped the pitcher, her tears blinding her. It wasn't just the burning pain on her index finger that brought the tears though. It was the sudden realization that she was being horribly selfish, and had probably made a huge mistake by resurrecting the Count. She'd had these thoughts before about wondering whether to bring him back or not, but it didn't matter now. He was alive. He was here, with her, and all she could do was cry. "What is going on? Why have I done this? Did I just use the excuse of owing him something an excuse to kiss him again? To feel his arms around me or to hear the soft, deep sound of his voice in my ear?" She replaced the pot on the stove, brushing her tears away. "This whole situation is just a mess!" She stirred the pot on the stove until it was steaming and then turned off the stove, very carefully.

Slowly, she poured the stew into two bowls. She just stared blankly at one of them, wondering what she should do. Should she give it to him? What would he say? How would he react? Was he really considering leaving? He didn't even know why she'd resurrected him… or did he? She shook all these thought away and picked up the bowl with a mug of water and padded in her bare feet over the old, creaking, wooden floor to the door of the room where he was staying in. Luckily, it was right off the kitchen, so she didn't have to walk far or risk spilling his steaming stew. Gingerly, she knocked on the tall wood door. She could hear his footsteps approaching. Her heart seemed to pound faster. Why was this?


	12. Comfort

**Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Dracula, just April, and the story.**

_Author's note: I apologize for this taking so long. I've been really really busy. Thanks for being patient! And thank you again, Unrequited Lover, for your great suggestion. I couldn't have written this without it!_

The Count sat quietly on the bed, still clad only in the cloak April had given him on the way to her house. He sat and looked around at the room he'd be sleeping in. It was somewhat comfortable, with an antique, wooden desk and cushioned chair in the corner and a thick, red rug on the floor. The bed he was sitting on was a double bed with white sheets and a thick, hand-knitted quilt with flowers and nature scenes all over it. Not exactly his taste, but it was warm, and he drew it over himself, but tying the cloak around his waist.

For the first time in hundreds of years, he found that he was very sleepy. He'd been tired, weary, drained, and exhausted, but not sleepy. There was a large difference. He knew he couldn't sleep, though. Not after what April had said to him. Her words had drilled into his mind, and all he could think about was how utterly true they were. He truly had nowhere to go, he had no powers, no relatives, no undead minions, no wings, no brides, no icy realm that was all his own…. All he had was April, and a weak, human body that felt every little thing-fear, anger, regret, sorrow, and something else he couldn't exactly classify. It was a curious sensation, but he thought it may be too dangerous to confront at the moment. Plus, a sudden knocking interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in…" he croaked in a weak voice as he unlocked the door and then climbed back into the warm bed. April entered, carrying a bowl and a mug.

"I brought you some supper, Count." She said, her tone icy. Obviously, her thoughts were still on their argument, too.

April honestly didn't know whether she should be angry with him or not. She handed him the bowl and cup, and she could swear she's seen it again. The flash of human she had seen in him when she first resurrected him. He looked so human, laying there, eating eagerly, yet clumsily, with not shirt on, and his hair a mess on his shoulders. Yet still… there was that cold, superiority in his black eyes when he had beheld her as she entered.

"You're welcome!" she spat after a moment, forgetting her brief sympathy for him in her anger. He could have at least thanked her! She'd even burned her finger making this supper. She began to storm out again, cursing herself for being so angry over such a little thing, even though it really bothered her. She padded to the wooden door, turning the handle and beginning to step through the threshold.

"Th-thank you… Miss April…" she heard his deep voice say from behind her. She turned, startled that he actually said something, and more startled that what he said had been a "thank you." She turned to face him. "Please… do not go. I wish to speak with you."

"Very well…" she came to the bed and sat beside him. He set his food aside and faced her.

"Miss April. I have found that you are… correct. I, Count Vladislaus Dracula though I am, have nothing. No longer do I have my brides, servants… wings. The truth of your words have greatly disturbed me. At first, they angered me, and I somewhat forgot that I am now a frail human. I cannot yet accept that, but I know that what you said to me was true. I wish to apologize. I should not have ordered you around like a serving wench. You are truly… all I have." He gazed into the window across from his bed. The white flakes of snow had seemed to double in size and were falling quicker than before. The embers of the dying fire in his fireplace reflected off the glass. They waved like restless monarch butterflies in the midst of a fiery red flower. And among them, he saw himself. A gasp escaped his lips.

With one movement, he stood, the quilt falling away from his body, leaving only the cloak which he had tied around himself. She stared at him, a little annoyed, unsure of what he was doing, especially because he was in the middle of telling her she was right. She couldn't help but stare, admiring his strong chest as he moved to the window. She turned toward the direction in which he had gone, still wondering.

He reached the window and gazed at it in horror for a moment. Then slowly, he reached forward, touching the icy glass surface lightly with his fingertips. His long nails made a slight tapping noise as they collided with the silvery glass, and he pulled them away, as if frightened. Then, his hand moved to his own face, feeling the cheek as though making sure it were really there. He stared, transfixed, unmoving for about ten seconds at his reflection. He never blinked, but only gazed at his fair reflection in the mirror-like window. Then, silently as ever, his head dropped against the smoothness of the glass and he wept.

April had been watching him the whole time, wondering what he was doing. When he gazed, so fascinated by his own reflection, she finally understood. Vampires had no reflection, she'd read, so this was new for him again. She didn't know why he was so moved by it exactly, but she knew she would be affected if it were her reflection she was seeing after four hundred years of not seeing it.

"Count…" she slowly approached his right side as he sobbed. She couldn't tell exactly why he felt this way, but suddenly all the annoyance and even anger she had felt was gone. At the sight of this broken man, she couldn't help but do what her instincts told her. "What is the matter?" she looked up at him, but he didn't move; though he'd stopped weeping. His eyes were closed tightly even though a silent river of tears wound down his cheeks. He looked as though he was trying to compose himself, but couldn't exactly do it.

Without waiting for him to respond in any way to her question, she gently wrapped her arms around his middle, for it was all she could reach. She pressed her cheek against his warm skin, not letting go, and closing her eyes.

At her touch, he slowly lifted his head from the glass, looking down at her beside him. He was taken aback by the comfort she was offering him. His first impulse, as a former vampire, would have been to push her away, but not now. He knew that he was different now that he was alive, and whether he wanted to or not, he knew he couldn't push away the woman to whom he owed his life. He took a deep breath, noticing how she was somewhat lifted as his chest rose with the intake of air. Lifting his right arm, he drew her close, surprisingly feeling no lust whatsoever, which had been all he'd been able to feel as a fiend of the night.

He raised his head again to look at the window, just making sure he had seen his reflection. Sure enough, it was there, grimacing back at him. And that was when it finally hit him. There was no returning to his old ways, not matter what. He was stuck, as a mere human. He had known it, but it had not fully sunken in. Now he was certain, and the feeling was overwhelming him again.

April suddenly pulled back and moved away from him. She sat on his bed and made a motion for him to join her. He obeyed and sat, looking down at his lap, cursing himself for showing weakness. He wanted to curse April for bringing him back as such a weakling, but he knew in his heart that this was the real him. He couldn't hide from it now that he was completely human.

"Count… what ever is ailing you?" she asked finally, concern evident in her voice. "I know this must be more than a little difficult, making the adjustment back to being mortal. I wish to help you. I thought I was repaying you when I resurrected you, but now I'm not so sure... I am causing you such pain. I should not have intervened! It is God's work not mine, I am a fool! I… feel so stupid for being such a nuisance. I wish to make it up to you, I suppose." She looked down now.

"Miss April, if you wish to make it up to me than tell me exactly why you brought me back to life." He said solemnly.

"Very well. Well, as you know, I owed you a debt, and I decided this was a way I could do it. I did so much research… I read all about you, and I almost decided not to. All the things about your past… what you've done to so many poor souls… I knew it wasn't exactly right. However, I rationalized that I was simply repaying you. It was an honourable thing to do! But… I knew it was not exactly. I was being selfish."

"Than why did you resurrect me? You are an intelligent woman, I take, so why did you?" he raised a black eyebrow.

"Do you really wish to know?" she asked quietly.

"I would like nothing else, my dear," his eyes bored into hers, not letting them go. She thought that maybe this penetrating stare was one talent he had even though he was not a vampire. Indeed, she seemed to not want to tear her gaze away, much less lie under that stare.

"This is why, Count." With one motion, she leaned forward on the bed and kissed him on the lips, her arms thrown around his neck.

**To be continued!**


	13. A Reason

**Disclaimer: still, I must admit that I do not own Van Helsing or Dracula, only April and the story.**

The Count was completely shocked when April Leolius had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. When he'd asked for an explanation concerning the reason she resurrected him, he'd subconsciously prepared himself for a long-winded explanation that he considered typical of women. However, he was completely wrong, but he wouldn't say he was at all disappointed.

Instead of pulling away, and demanding an explanation, which he knew was the right thing to do, he allowed the kiss to deepen. He locked her in his arms, holding her waist as she leaned against him. She, the one who had started the kissing, suddenly stopped, feeling out of breath.

April had thought that maybe when last she had kissed him she was hypnotized, and she was brainwashed into thinking it was amazing. She was wrong. To her utter enjoyment, she found that now that he was alive, his kiss was even more intense. She laid her head on his chest, not being able to reach his broad shoulder, and closed her eyes, not knowing what else to do, and still a bit dazed. He allowed her to rest there, unsure as well, as to what they should do. Finally, he decided.

"Miss April… what exactly was that for?"

"You asked me for the reason I brought you back to life, Count, and I gave it to you." She said, never opening her eyes or lifting her head.

"That was the reason?"

"Yes."

"You mean to tell me, April, that you risked almost everything to resurrect me because I am skilled in the art of kissing?" he asked, half joking.

"Not _only_ that, Count. I am not that shallow or ignorant." She raised her head, eyes wide and serious.

"Than why else, other than the debt you thought you owed me?" he inquired.

"I cannot exactly say it to you now." Her gaze shifted guiltily downward, but then back up again, because she'd thought of something better to say. "I felt that I had to. My heart told me so." She raised her hand to her left breast over her heart. "I have learned that, even though books are useful, the heart is a much better guide at times." He gazed at her a moment, thinking about her words. Finally, he released her from his grip and she plopped down on the bed again.

"Wise words, I suppose." He said.

"Indeed. Though I am not one to usually do anything that is not strictly logical, I knew that much about what I had to do. It was just something my heart could not allow me to let go of."

"You say logic is your master?" he asked smoothly.

"Somewhat. Though lately I have been abandoning all reason, it seems." She looked rather ashamed as the thoughts of her mistake came back to her. Or at least, she thought it was a mistake.

"Do not be ashamed. You gave me my life, Miss April, and if you had not I would still be with the Devil right now." She looked at him with frightened eyes at the mention of Hell.

"You… remember?" she asked hesitantly.

"Parts. I have been to Hell and back so many times, it seems, that all the horrors are beginning to all fade together into one horror. But, Miss April, perhaps you have done me the greatest favour of them all…" his eyes suddenly brightened as he looked around the room, obviously thinking very hard.

"What exactly do you mean? Not an hour ago I thought you hated me for bringing you back-"

"No! Perhaps, Mrs. April, this was… _God's_ will." She noticed how he had difficulty saying the name of the Lord, but she then remembered that he had been the Prince of Darkness for four hundred years. She almost rolled her eyes to herself at her brief moment of stupidity.

"Whatever do you mean, Count?" she inquired, still curious, but a little frightened.

"Perhaps now that I have returned, I can make up for all the pain I caused, all the hate and darkness I spread, all the blood I fed upon." He'd stood up and started pacing, obviously still thinking.

"You mean to tell me that you think that now you're on Earth, you can attempt to save your soul?"

"Precisely."

_Yes, I know this is short, but I was going for a mini-chapterish thing. Any more suggestions that you may have, I am always open to receive. Thanks!_


	14. The True Reason

**Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Dracula, just April and the story. Nor do I own any books I mention in this.**

"No… er… wait… Count!" April Leolius squeezed her eyes shut and fumed for a moment, frustrated at the cracking sound she had just heard.

"Oh… I apologize, Miss April. I shall take care of it."

"Thank…you… Count." She said between clenched teeth. It was only seven o'clock in the morning and while attempting to make breakfast, Count Dracula had only assisted in breaking three eggs, spilling all April's milk, and cutting her hand while trying to slice bread.

She turned around to face The Count, who was squatting on the wooden floor gingerly mopping up the raw egg with a cloth. "As much as I appreciate your assistance, Count, I think it would be better if I made breakfast and you… set the table-"

"Did I not set the table ten minutes ago after the second egg was broken?" He was incorrigible.

"Oh yes, how could I forget! Then, could you please… milk the cow? She's in the shed right behind the house. Just go down the stairs into the shop area and turn right. It's the second door against the wall. And bring a pail; they're near the table over there--"

"Miss April?" he asked slowly but in that smooth-sounding voice that made her shiver.

"Yes?" she asked, turning away from the countertop and wiping her hands on a cloth.

"It seems as though, if I am not mistaken, that my presence is a hindrance, rather than a help."

"Well, I will be honest with you." She walked up to him and took the eggy cloth, tossing it into the dish-basin. "You seem to be a bit clumsy in the kitchen. It is not that I don't enjoy your presence, Count. It is merely that I think your talents could be put to better use elsewhere." He smiled slightly and nodded as if in approval.

"Spoken well, Miss April. I shall return with your milk." He started to walk away, leaving April to smile at his back.

"Thank you." She called after him, but he had already gone down the creaking, wooden staircase to her bakery below. She turned and headed back to her cooking, though she wasn't concentrating on the eggs in front of her.

The night before had been sleepless. After her conversation and unexpected kiss with the Count, she had politely bid him goodnight and retired, though all the while knowing she would not sleep. It was his blasted kiss again, she'd thought. Though it had gone from her lips, it still burned in her mind and made her heart race and an uncomfortable speed. And it had been that way all through the night.

She'd tried to read one of her many books: Dante's Inferno, The Odyssey… even some ridiculous fairy tales about princesses, monsters, and dragons, but nothing had helped. Her mind would drift to the kiss, the conversation, the whole experience of awakening Count Dracula, and how he intended to save his soul. It seemed all too much for one person to ponder, but ponder it she did; she did until she gave herself a headache. And so she could not sleep. Nor could she stop wondering if the man staying only rooms away was having the same problem as she.

It seemed, though, that the Count had slept as soundly as death the night before. He had awoken at the crack of dawn, finally dressing in a long-sleeved white shirt and brown pants that she knew were hers from the way they only barely covered his knees and looked so tight that they must be cutting off circulation to something. It seemed that he had been going through her wardrobes and had finally found a somewhat suitable outfit. When he had finally come into her room to wake her, she had not only almost gagged herself trying not to laugh at his getup, but also noticed that he had unsuccessfully tried to tie up his long, shiny, black hair (which made her laugh harder). Fortunately, she fixed the mess of hair he had created on his own head with her best hairbrush and a short, black ribbon that you couldn't see because it blended in with his hair.

She laughed to herself while throwing the beaten eggs into a pan on the stove. Just the sight of his strange getup after a sleepless night of worrying had greatly cheered her. She recalled how messily he had tied up his hair. Half of it had been coming out of the band he'd used and it was extremely ratty with knots clearly visible. She couldn't seem to get his seemingly cool, dignified expression that he had worn _with_ his ridiculous outfit out of her mind. Actually, she couldn't seem to get any of him out of her mind. She shook her head to try and chase the thoughts away.

Unfortunately though, as soon as she had resumed concentrating on her cooking and gotten his face out of her mind, he walked into the room, drenched in milk.

"Count, so you've milked--" she stopped short at the sight of him. He was completely drenched from the waist up in milk, yet he still managed to have a haughty look of utmost disgust and superciliousness upon his dripping face.

"I regret to inform you, that I was unsuccessful in milking that… _beast_." He spat, still serious and looking deadly.

April, however, had erupted into an uncontrollable fit of giggles at the very sight of him, and had completely forgotten that he had probably wasted all her milk again. The Count was not at all pleased.

"You find this amusing, do you?" he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. She didn't exactly respond; rather, she nodded while wiping tears of laughter furiously away. Finally she spoke, feeling the need under his disgusted expression.

"I must say, you _are_ quite a sight."

"It seems that every time I enter the room, you consider me 'quite a sight.'" He said in a very childish-sounding voice, as though he were pouting.

"I'm truly sorry, Count. I don't mean to insult you. Truthfully, the sight of you greatly cheers me." He looked a bit taken aback by her comment.

"Er… how so?" he asked hesitantly.

"Well, I've just been thinking a lot lately about things that I've done and regret, and I've been getting myself worried over things I can't change…. You're presence is a comfort at the very least. It feels good to laugh because for that moment, I completely forget my troubles."

"Then I am glad I am able to make you laugh." He said matter-of-factly, which startled her slightly at the ease with which he said the words. "Now, Miss April-" she held up her hand to stop him.

"Please… call me April." She said, smiling. "No more formalities."

"Alright. Then please call me Vlad."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Vlad finally spoke casually.

"April, why don't you and I go to the market? I don't think we'll be getting any milk from your cow today." She laughed at the bitterness in his voice when he mentioned her cow.

"I also think that we should buy some new clothes for you." She said with a smile while walking toward him. "They're hardly fit for a gentleman like yourself." She looked him up and down but couldn't get past the tightness of the pants without a slight giggle.

"Very well. These trousers are somewhat _uncomfortable._ I just didn't want to say anything to you…"

"Then I suggest we go! I'll get you a long traveling cloak to wear." A smile played along her red-painted lips as she made her way to her wardrobe. She could just imagine the looks on the villagers' faces if they saw Vlad outside wearing such improper clothing. She looked at the long cloak and decided it was suitable for his height. No one would be able to see his somewhat indecent attire under it, she thought.

After fetching it, as well as her own, and favourite shorter cloak, April set off toward the town with Vlad. Though the snow had stopped hours before, the sky was still an ominous sort of gray with heavy-looking clouds looming overhead and the sun nowhere to be seen. The wind had a certain chill to it; burning their faces and making them huddle close together. The snow on the ground was so deep that April even tripped twice, only to be caught by Vlad's powerful arms. After her second fall they decided just to link arms to somewhat simplify the matter, which suited April just fine.

Actually, it suited April a bit more than she'd like to admit. Upon entering the town, being seen strolling with a noble-looking gentleman, she received many an envious or simply curious stare. April did not appear much in the town, coming only when she needed to shop for a new book or supplies for her bakery. Although she still lived under the alias, Prudence, she was regarded with much distrust; after all, the villagers were all convinced that her "cousin" had been a suicidal witch. It wasn't the distrust that irked her though; it was all the rumours that were constantly spread about her and her supposed "cousin." It seemed the only thing that could ever brighten up the town of Transylvania was gossip, and there was nothing she despised more.

However, this particular, gray day was not unlike every other day in the town. Everyone was simply going about their normal business, but was as thirsty for gossip as a vampire is for blood after a long day's sleep. Unbeknown to April, the news of her arrival with the mysterious stranger was spreading like wildfire throughout the village. In fact, by the time she reached the shop where she intended to buy Vlad some new clothes, the news had spread to none other than Anthony, the creepy gravedigger that had seemed to be stalking her before.

"I think these will do fine… Prudence." Vlad said, using her alias while motioning to a pair of black pants that were on display in the window. Upon entering, she discovered that they were the cheapest pair in the shop.

"Surely, Vlad, you would prefer something better than these. They are the cheapest slacks in here." She walked over to another, more fashionable and warmer-looking pair that were also on display. "How about these?" She pointed to them. "And look, they come with a matching vest, belt, and top hat!" Before he could make an adequate answer, however, she skipped gleefully to the shopkeeper and asked him to bring them down for Vlad to try on. Vlad rolled his eyes in slight annoyance, but let out a defeated sigh. He now knew just how his companion had acquired so many dresses; it seemed she had a weakness for shopping.

"In there, you say?" Anthony the gravedigger asked the man working the produce cart on the side of the busy street.

"Yes sir. I am quite sure I saw Miss Prudence enter there with a tall, black-haired gentleman.

"Did he have his hair tied back?" Anthony inquired, just to be sure. The minute he'd heard about "Prudence" entering town with a tall, dark, and handsome (as the women told him) man at her side, Anthony had rushed toward the town's square in a jealous rage. It was no secret to everyone in Transylvania that Anthony fancied "Prudence."

"I think they look very fine indeed, Vlad!" April said to Vlad as they walked out of the clothing shop, her pockets exceedingly lighter. April had not only bought him the pants, belt, and hat set, but at least three others with the same general style but in different colours, along with five cotton shirts to match, new boots, and even a sleek, black, wooden cane.

They now walked down the street, heads held high, looking very stylish (Vlad had decided to wear one outfit out of the shop) and attracting more stares than what they had initially received. Vlad lowered the top hat so that it was blocking his face from view.

"Apr-- Prudence," he whispered to April, with whom he had linked arms with once again. "Why does it seem that the whole town is watching us?"

"Because they probably are."

"Pardon me?"

"Just keep going, keep your head down, and pretend that you don't notice them. They won't bother us, they'll just eavesdrop if they can, watch our every move until we leave, and then gossip about us later."

"How enjoyable."

"Indeed." April whispered back sarcastically. She couldn't wait to sell her bakery and leave Transylvania once and for all. That was what she had been focusing on before Vlad had come into her life, before she had become determined to resurrect him, before she had fallen in love with him… It seemed like lifetimes ago to her all of a sudden.

"I take it you don't come to town on a regular basis?"

"I try to avoid it."

For a few moments they walked in silence, until they were clear of the crowded town square and on the road that led to April's house. Suddenly Vlad turned to April, a somewhat anxious expression on his face.

"Apr-" he stopped when she shook her head. She said not to use her real name until they were safe inside her house. "…Prudence, I've been thinking."

"Whatever about?"

"About my fate. Try as I might, I simply cannot forgive myself for all the horrid, evil things I have done. I swear to never do such things again, but it does not feel nearly enough. I feel like I need to prove myself… if not only to myself, that I am worthy of salvation." She stopped walking and turned to face him, her face grim.

"Vlad, these are heavy thoughts…"

"Truly." He said, looking down.

"Why can you not forgive yourself?" She took his hand in hers. Slowly he looked up, the sad depths of his black eyes drowning her.

"Could you?" He said slowly, in an extremely sorrowful, yet chilling voice that made April shiver more than the snow on the ground or the icy wind. "You have not seen the full extent of what I've done. I have murdered hundreds, maybe thousands! I have drained their blood and laughed over their lifeless bodies. I have borne an undead army full of hate and lust for innocent blood… how could you ever forgive anyone for such atrocities!" he shouted, tearing his shaking hands away from April's grasp.

"Please, Vlad… not here, we're not entirely clear of the village. There could still be people about." She reached out and touched his arm gently, a pleading look in her eyes. He took a deep breath and composed himself once more.

"I apologize. It has just been weighing so heavily upon my mind."

"I understand. We can, of course, talk about it later. But think about this, Vlad. You say you cannot forgive yourself and that you feel that you need to make up for your atrocities? Well you have the rest of your life. You do not need to dwell on it right now; after all, you're not even used to being human yet." Her voice had returned to a whisper as they resumed walking.

"Perhaps."

"I think that when we get to my house, I should make some hot tea. I am truly chilled to the bone!" she smiled warmly at him, obviously feeling a change of subject was needed.

"Oh? Well perhaps I can help with that." He said in his smooth, deep voiced-accent while putting a strong arm around April's waist, pulling her close. She knew that if she had been looking in a mirror at that very moment, her face would be a bright shade of scarlet.

"So, was this how you managed to get those three beautiful brides?" she asked, still a bit embarrassed, but comfortable nonetheless.

"What can I say? The charisma comes naturally."

Anthony the gravedigger stood, frozen, behind a tall evergreen tree. He had followed "Prudence" and her strange, dark companion all the way to the outskirts of the village. He fully intended to confront them, but he first wanted to watch them, to try and learn a little more about their relationship. Other than walking arm in arm, they displayed no behaviour that would signify that they were lovers. Anthony had still been suspicious though. The curious man with April had an odd look about him-- like he didn't exactly belong. His composure was that of a nobleman, but he looked as though he didn't exactly fit into his own skin. Whatever it was about this stranger, Anthony did not like it at all.

He especially did not like the stranger when he put his arm around "Prudence." He hadn't heard what they had been talking about, but it didn't seem to him like a conversation that was to end with them snuggling up to each other. However, blinded by jealousy, he didn't care in the least. All he cared about as he ran out from behind the evergreen was dislodging this man from "Prudence."

"So then, Vlad, I said to the customer who wanted to buy the wheat bread--- BLOODY HELL!" April screamed as she was physically torn from Vlad's arms. She was grabbed roughly around the waist and pulled to the ground.

"And who the hell do you think you are, sir!" Vlad boomed, pulling April swiftly up from the snow-covered ground into his arms.

"I am Anthony!" He did a melodramatic bow, taking off his top hat and then throwing it to the side. "Resident gravedigger of the town graveyard. May I ask who the hell you might be? A stranger, just showing up out of nowhere!"

"I am no stranger to this town--" he stopped, feeling April's elbow prod into his stomach. He suddenly remembered that he was supposedly dead.

"Oh? Do not try and lie yourself out of this! You seem quite a shifty fellow! There's something not right about you. I will not let Miss Prudence be taken advantage by some stranger!"

"Anthony, what is wrong with you? I am not being taken advantage of! I am simply not interested in you."

"Oh Prudence what has he done to you?" April rolled her eyes at Anthony's words.

"He has done nothing! I…I love him!" They all froze. April was astounded by her own words. Had she really said that? She felt her face burning. Vlad looked down at her; some sort of new recognition for her was dawning in his inky-black eyes. Why had she said that? Finally Anthony broke the silence.

"Mark my words! If you do not love me, Prudence, if I cannot have you, than no one else shall!" With that, Anthony turned and darted away down the road, looking about himself like a madman. It was not until he was out of sight that either Vlad or April decided to move.

Vlad released April, suddenly aware that he was still holding her close. April cleared her throat and looked at her boots.

"Well, we best be getting back." She said quickly.

"Indeed." Vlad said slowly. "Who exactly was that crazed man?"

"Just who he said he was: the town gravedigger. All the former gravediggers have either gone mad or met a nasty end. He seems to have taken the former."

"And he is love with you… because?"

"I do not know. When I was searching for a way to resurrect you, I went to him for information. He's known to know all sorts of queer things, you see. But anyway, he tried to ask me to go on a date with him, but I refused. Then I found him following me when I went to Valarious Manor. He is a strange man."

"Indeed." Vlad said again. "I do not think he is someone to be overlooked. You should take care to avoid him."

After that they walked in silence up to April's big, old house. April made them both hot tea, like she said she would, and they sat in front of the fire and talked until the sun began to set. It was not until the pot of tea was completely empty did their conversation with Anthony come up again.

"April, I have been meaning to ask you something. Do you love me? Or did you just say it to make Anthony leave…" April avoided his piercing gaze. Of course she loved him, but how could she just tell him? She didn't know if he felt the same way. Perhaps he fancied her, but _loved_?

She took a deep breath and set down her teacup. There was only one way to find out.

"Yes, Vlad. I love you. I didn't just say that to make Anthony go away. I would never say such a thing for so light a purpose."

"So that is the true reason you brought me back?"

"Yes."

"Because you loved me?"

"Yes."

"How could love a heartless vampire?"

"I do not know. It was not a shallow love, either. I felt connected to you. You saved my life, you were my 'knight in shining armour.' But it was almost an infatuation. Now, it is love. Now I know you as a person, and I can say it and mean it with all my heart. Now I truly love you."

Without a word, his teacup fell to the floor, and he swept her into his embrace. Her head against his breast, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Relaxing into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his middle. Suddenly, she felt a hot tear fall, stinging, onto her own cheek. Looking up in surprise, she saw a single, wet streak down his face, though his eyes were closed tightly.

"Vlad…" she whispered.

"April… I love you." She smiled, despite the tears coming from her own eyes.

**To Be Continued**


	15. All is Fair in Love and War

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Van Helsing, or Dracula, just April and the story. -Linwe**

**All Is Fair In Love and War**

Revenge.

That was what Anthony needed. Truly, it was the only thing that could possibly bring him out of the mad rage he had been in since meeting up with "Prudence" and her dark companion. He had stormed back to the graveyard- for it was the only place he felt at home- and, after breaking a number of tools and things, sat and tried to think of a plot. When he had sworn that if he could not have "Prudence" than no one could, he had meant it with every single fiber of his insane being. He fully intended to carry out the threat, for it seemed to him that the dark stranger truly had "Prudence" in his clutches.

He looked around wildly at the graveyard around him, black eyes darting from side to side in a crazed sort of way. What could he use? A shovel? A pickaxe? No, too crude. This stranger was an intelligent one, he could tell, and it would take more than some grave-digging tools to get rid of him. He had to think of a real plan.

Trying to compose himself, he took a few deep breaths and kicked some dirt out from under his boot. He would have to put all his cunning toward this plan. What could he do? How could he get rid of that dark man? He wracked his brains for any kind of plan for hours, still too, much in a sort of jealous rage to fathom anything feasible.

He watched the sun slowly sink behind the great, snow-covered Carpathian Mountains on the distant horizon like a flame slowly dying on a white, wax candle. What could he do? And then, as the last luminous orange beam of light disappeared behind a snow-covered peak, it came to him…

-

Love.

April had never felt anything like it. To think: all those years she had spent in solitude studying, memorizing, learning, going to school… in all of her twenty-one years, she had never before felt anything like the love she was feeling now. Why hadn't she sought it before now? She asked herself this question over and over. Well, she reasoned with herself, she had thought it folly, only ridiculous infatuation or lust that could result in wasting too much of one's time. But now she understood that it wasn't that at all. Now she understood that love--true love, not mere lust-- was truly something to live for. She couldn't believe she had lived so long without knowing it. She had not even really known it from her own parents, for they had both died when she was too young to remember them. But none of that mattered now-- now she felt complete.

Every time she saw him she felt her heart leap at least a few feet and every time he held her, she felt as if her heart would beat itself out of her chest. Yes, it was truly love that she felt for him, and it was quite a rush.

About two days after their confrontation with the gravedigger, April found herself happier than she had been in a very long time and completely forgetting Anthony altogether. She knew Vlad had felt that Anthony was somewhat of a threat, but she had almost paid him no heed. Besides, what could Anthony possibly do?

That afternoon, much to April's pleasure and surprise, the sun could be seen, full and brilliant in the normally cloudy Transylvanian sky, shining down upon the village, making it a bit less cold and drab.

"Vlad!" she called from behind the counter of her bakery on the ground floor of her house.

"Yes?" he asked, his heavy boots making the already old, creaking, wooden stairs creak even more as he descended.

"How would you fancy a stroll to the village?" she asked, her voice light and somewhat chipper. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her cheery tone.

"If you're going, I would very much fancy it." He said, shooting her a charming smile.

"Oh good! I just thought we should because the sun has finally come out!" she pointed to the small mullioned window to her right.

"Has it really?" he strode over to it and drew the curtains. The stunning rays flooded in through the sudden gap in the fabric like water pouring through a crack in a boat, illuminating the particles of dust floating around. As the sunlight poured into the room, he was momentarily blinded, bringing up his hand to shield his eyes. "Indeed it has." He blinked and then looked out the window once again. "And it hurts me not." He smiled, but looked grim all the same. "It has been long since I could look to the sun without fear or loathing."

"I'm sorry…" she started, feeling guilty for bringing it up.

"There is no need to apologize. That was another life." He smiled.

"Alright then." There was an awkward silence. "I'll just go get my cloak. Although the sun is finally showing his face, there is still a bitter chill in the wind."

"Indeed."

After she'd gotten her cloak and his, they strode out the door, April flipping her bakery's sign over to read "closed." They started heading down the hill, which was still slick and glistening with melting snow, toward the village.

-

He finally had a plan. And yes, he would admit it wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best a crazed man who was still blinded by irrational jealousy could come up with on such little sleep and less brain cells.

He knew that April was bound to venture down to the village again, now having to provide hospitality for someone else, to buy some food from the market. It had only been a day or two since their confrontation, but he waited in the village anyway, vowing not to leave until his plan had been carried out.

As fate would have it, on that very day, the sun had finally come out.

-

"It truly is a fine day!" April said, flinging her arms above her head and twirling in the snow, her boots leaving circular snake-like prints in her wake.

Vlad watched her curiously, wondering at her sudden liveliness in the sun. It surely didn't make him feel like twirling around in the snow. But perhaps that was from the 400 years of being a vampire. Or maybe he was just a morbid person. He would never know.

"Shall we go down to the village?" he asked her after a moment or two.

"Oh yes! Of course!" she jubilantly took his arm once again and they started down the hill to the village.

-

War

He saw them approaching the village long before they saw him. His heart leaped in his chest. It was time to strike.

"So I was thinking, Vlad, perhaps we should go to the market. I'm out of flour, and I run a bakery, so I really need to get-" she suddenly stopped talking and Vlad felt her grip on his arm tighten a great deal.

"Ap-- Uh, Prudence, what is it?" then he noticed she was staring forward, her green eyes wide, pupils mere black dots, shrunken from the bright sunlight. He turned in the direction she was looking.

Anthony.

But not just Anthony. He was standing there, blocking their path into the village, holding a long, silver dagger that was pressed against a little girl's throat.

"Dear God," breathed April to herself. But she remained calm. "Anthony," she withdrew herself from Vlad and started to walk toward the crazed gravedigger. "What are you doing? Please just put down the dagger…" She tried to keep her voice calm and neutral, her steps slow and unthreatening, as she had read heroes do in books when someone was being held hostage. It usually worked for them. She could only pray.

"Prudence!" Vlad hissed, shaking suddenly. "Don't get too close to him, he's dangerous!" She shot a pleading look back at him. He stopped talking, hoping she had a plan.

"I will not put down my dagger!" Anthony yelled, taking a step forward and pressing the blade harder against the girl's neck. She winced as a crimson stream started flowing down her throat onto the collar of her dress. April suddenly started shaking herself, very worried.

"Anthony, please, just put it down… what is it you want?" She knew it was a stupid question; she already knew what he wanted.

"Is it not obvious, Miss Prudence? I want you!"

"No!" Vlad involuntarily shouted from where he stood. He felt rage boiling up inside him. How dare this man do such a thing! _If only I had my wings…_ he thought. But they would do him no good in the blazing sunlight anyway. He blinked, the thoughts gone, suddenly aware that Anthony was staring at him wildly.

"No, you say? Is that your answer to me?" he pressed the dagger even harder against her throat, making the stream of red flowing anew onto her clothes. The girl screamed, tears running down her face.

"No! No! Anthony! Stop, it's not… just please put down the knife!" April pleaded.

"Why should I do that? What will it gain me? Nothing!" Anthony shrieked.

Vlad was standing there, feeling frightened and helpless. He hadn't felt this way for at least 400 years. He'd always had his powers, his wings to keep him safe. He had been immortal. But no longer. He was a helpless mortal now-- but he needed to do something, anything…

He started walking toward Anthony at a startlingly normal pace. He saw unconcealed fear flash in April's emerald eyes, but he kept his steady pace toward Anthony.

"You want Prudence, do you?" he asked, trying to sound confident, despite his shaking knees.

"I said that, stranger! Now back away before I slit her throat and yours!" he spat at Vlad, who, as though unperturbed, kept walking until he was a mere five feet from the gravedigger and his hostage. "I'm warning you!" Anthony shouted. The girl sobbed, looking at Vlad with pleading brown eyes. Anthony looked down at the girl. "Won't you just shut up- Argh!"

With one swift motion, Vlad had lunged from his position, grabbed the frightened girl, and flung her out of Anthony's grasp. He and Vlad were now sprawled on the ground in a heap. April screamed. There was a puddle of red forming on the snow where Vlad lay. Anthony was temporarily out of commission. She ran toward them, but his voice halted her.

"Heal the girl! He slit her throat!" he hissed, his teeth clenched in pain. He motioned to the girl lying beside him. There was more blood pooling in front of her as well. Anthony's knife must have slipped on her throat when Vlad seized her.

"Vlad! Oh, God!" April sprinted to their position and threw herself on the snow in front of them.

"What the hell!" Anthony had seemed to have recovered from Vlad's attack. He then seemed to spot the pool of blood. "Ha! You didn't get past me unscathed!"

"Damn you." Vlad said in a dangerously quiet voice. It briefly reminded April of the voice he had used that time long ago when he had been trying to suck her blood. It was the same voice, minus its alluring quality.

He slowly heaved himself from the ground, supporting himself in a sitting position with his arm. April saw that the blood was coming from a place in his chest. She needed to heal him-- quickly. But first she needed to heal the girl. Her neck was bleeding more openly than before and her face was white. She was unconscious. She started toward her form on the ground and then stopped and looked in the direction of the village below. Was that a woman's screaming she heard? No, she must have been imagining it. She could hardly hear anything anyway over the beating of her on heart. She shook her head and ran to the girl, forgetting it altogether.

April went to the girl and propped her head up onto her lap. She saw Vlad stand and walk to the left of them, looking weak but ready for a fight. She wished he would wait until she could heal him before he tried to fight the gravedigger. But of course it couldn't be helped. However, she stayed focused on her present task and pulled her amulet out of her blouse. Pressing it to the girl's throat, she saw the green-blue jewel in the middle flash brilliantly before her eyes and the intricate silver designs reflect the sunlight.

Suddenly she forgot everything around her. She felt the familiar sensation of falling as the magical warmth of her gypsy amulet enveloped her. She could not even feel the chill of the cold, wet snow beneath her anymore.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it stopped, and the warmth was gone. She opened her emerald eyes and looked down at the girl. The long bloody gash that had been on her throat was gone; not a trace remained of it ever being there.

-

"Grace is missing! Grace is missing!" An old woman screamed as she ran, her dark purple shawls and long silver braid flying wildly behind her, from her wooden house into the busy town square. "Help me! Anyone!" she screamed louder. Every head seemed to turn in her direction. They all recognized her as Mrs. Riddley, the old woman who used to own the produce stand in the market. She was yelling about her granddaughter, Grace.

Some way away in the crowd, the constable, Mr. James Morris from London, heard the old woman's shrill shouts and ran up to her, pushing his way through the bustling crowd. A rather portly man, Mr. Morris didn't usually have a lot to do in the small town of Transylvania. He mostly had to deal with robberies in the market or arguments that broke out amongst hagglers and shopkeepers. However, today it seemed that this was an actual emergency. He had known Mrs. Riddley for quite some time, and she wasn't one to jest.

"Oh! Thank the Lord! Mr. Morris, my granddaughter is missing! I sent her out to fetch firewood and she hasn't returned. She would never stay out without telling me, something must be wrong."

"When did she go missing, madam?"

"Over an hour ago. I don't know where she could possibly be. I already searched our yard and the edge of the forest behind our house; that's where she usually is when she's getting firewood." She wrapped her shawls tighter around her shoulders as a cold wind blew.

"It's alright, I'll take some men with me and we'll go look for her. Are you sure she didn't mention anything about where she was going?"

"I'm sure, sir. I just asked her to fetch the wood and she left without a word."

"Rest assured, madam, we will find her before the day is out."

"Thank you sir, thank you!" he could see relief etched in her old, gray eyes. He knew that she had just placed all her hope in him. He hoped it was not in vain.

-

"Who are you?" the bemused girl asked April with wide, brown eyes.

"My name is… Prudence Leolius. But this is not really the time-"

"Was it your cousin that-"

"Yes, she was the gypsy witch." April said quickly, cringing inwardly. She still needed to keep her true identity secret. "This is no time to talk of such things."

"How did you do that!" Anthony shrieked, looking at the fully recovered girl then back to April. He seemed to have just noticed that the girl was alive and well.

"I… am a healer…" she chanced a pleading look at Vlad, hoping he would come to her quickly before Anthony recovered from his shock. But he did not move. His glance was angrily upon Anthony, although he looked ready to pass out at the same time.

"That is not healing… that is… that is… evil… witchcraft!" he said, his pointed finger shaking. "Just like that cousin of yours!"

"Oy! You there! Turn around! What are you up to?" a voice said from the bottom of the hill. April 's heart leapt with joy when she saw who it was. It was Mr. James Morris, the constable, with a group of five or six other men from the village. He wouldn't let Anthony do anything to them.

However, Anthony seemed not to hear him. He started walking toward April, knife raised.

"Stop right there!" the constable and his men started running up to them.

"I'll kill you, witch!" Anthony too took off at a run toward April and the girl.

"No! Stop!" Vlad roared as he started running as well. Anthony was less than four feet from

"I said halt! All of you! We're armed!" the men were getting closer.

Then it all happened in a flash.

A black form colliding with Anthony-- a gasp, a flash of silver, a splatter of crimson across the white blanket of shimmering snow, and the resounding thud of a body crumpling to the ground. April had squeezed her eyes shut when the forms collided, but the men had seen it all, as had the girl.

"Lord…" the girl breathed. April opened her eyes. She wished she hadn't.

"Vlad!" She deserted the girl and ran to his prone body. Flinging herself on the ground before him and using every ounce of her waning strength, she turned him over onto his back.

He was pale as a sheet, with another, larger chest wound from Anthony's deadly knife. It looked as though he had been stabbed, but the knife had not been withdrawn; the wound was in a jagged line that reached all the way to his waistline. It looked as though the cut was equally deep all the way down. Blood poured from it.

"Vlad! Vlad! Wake up! Please, I beg you!" she shook his shoulders and checked his pulse on his neck. He was still alive, but barely.

"You've killed him!" Morris screamed at Anthony. "You'll be hung for this!" And the men came upon the gravedigger and tied him up with rough, thick rope.

"Wait!" said April in a small voice, makeup smeared and running down her face from tears. "He's not dead yet!"

"Ha!" spat Anthony.

"You'll still hang!" Morris said back.

"I can save him…" she pulled the amulet off her neck, for it had been hanging out of her blouse since she healed the girl. Pressing it to his wound, she concentrated, held her breath, waited for the warmth to come… and waited. But it did not.

"What's going on?" she looked at the amulet, then back at Vlad. The wound was still there. "Why isn't it working?" she shook the amulet angrily, tried again… but it did not work.

"Damn!" she shrieked, crying. All the men were now watching her, confused. And then he moved.

"Vlad! Oh Vlad!" she cupped her hands on his face and kissed him on the lips.

"Ap… Prudence." he whispered and looked up at her with watery, black eyes.

"Oh Vlad. I'm losing you… the amulet… it's not working! Oh Vlad, I can't lose you!"

"Hush." Now he placed his hand on her cheek. " Perhaps you can only heal the same person once. It's alright."

"No! No! It's not! Oh Vlad, I love you! Don't leave me!"

"And I you… but now I may finally rest. I have given my life for yours. I can finally forgive myself, as God has forgiven me…"

"But Vlad--"

"Don't forget me."

"I shan't I promise!"

"Thank y--" and his head fell, slumped against her lap.

Tears streaming, she lifted him into her arms and wept, as the men dragged the kicking and screaming gravedigger back to the village. No, she would never forget him; and though she wept, she now knew that he was at peace in Heaven, and that she, because of her foolish infatuation with a charming vampire, had delivered him there.

**The End**


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